


as the smile fell from your face I fell with it (our faces blue)

by Livs_BR



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Depressing, Explicit Language, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Heavy Drinking, How Do I Tag, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Pennywise (IT), References to Depression, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Suicidal Thoughts, This is really sad, no beta we die like men, richie is depressed, richie is sad, this is how I imagine Richie got after Eddie died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23662531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livs_BR/pseuds/Livs_BR
Summary: Richie’s life and thoughts after Pennywise.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	as the smile fell from your face I fell with it (our faces blue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fic and I’m sorry for that haha.. Anyways idt anyone is going to read this but if you do, hope you like it! Btw this is un-beta-ed

  
Sometimes he would forget. 

Sometimes, the world would be a little kinder, and he’d be focused on other things, like the show he started watching a few days ago, or the funny videos one of the Losers sent to their groupchat, or his old and stupid comedy routine that wasn’t even his to begin with, or even some random thought about how there are different types of penguins in the world and How The Fuck Did I Not Know That, and Oh Yeah I Am Stupid. Sometimes, it would be calm and it would stop hurting.

But then, he’d want to comment with someone, and the first person to talk with that came to his mind was Eddie, and it would hurt again. Sort of a minor epiphany, like

_Oh, that’s right. He’s dead._

And it would feel like the first time again. But don’t ever say Richie didn’t try, because he did. He fucking did. He tried to think of someone else he could comment his previous thought (which he couldn’t remember now through the sound of his rapid beating broken heart) with, and he’d think of Stan.   
And finally, the tears would start falling.

It always began with sadness. Pure, unmasked sadness. How lonely he felt, and how much he missed those two. The love of his entire life, and his best friend. 

Sure, there were the other Losers, but it was different. It was the kind of absence you can’t help but feel, like a missing piece that ruins the entire puzzle. His life was the puzzle and there were two missing pieces, and he couldn’t stop crying because all he wanted was to be taken instead of those pieces.

Because, you know. He didn’t have anything anyway. His fame, his life, was all built in lies. His parents never liked him, his persona was fake, his jokes were shit, his love life was based on repression and an impossible love, his mental health was getting worst with each passing day, and he couldn’t help but think

_It should have been me_

Because Stan had Patty. And they seemed to really like each other if the way Patty had sounded on the phone could mean anything. And Eddie had Myra. And, actually, even if he didn’t, Eddie was Eddie. The little furious hypochondriac Richie was, is, and always will be, completely head over heels for. Eddie, who suffered so much with his mom, and ended up marrying someone just like her, without having the chance to be truly happy like Bev did. Eddie deserved so much better. Eddie deserved to live, and to laugh, and to relax and be himself without an abusive woman commanding his life and watching his every move. He missed him so fucking much. He wish he could see all that. 

And Richie had no one.

Then, came the anger. First, at Pennywise. That stupid fucking clown. How much Richie wished he could bring Pennywise back, just to kill it all over again, slower and more painful, watching its fearful eyes looking at Richie and shinning with

_Regret Regret Regret Regret Regret_

But then he’d think, and he’d be mad at the fucking universe or God or Whatever I Need to Blame because it isn’t fucking fair. Why couldn’t Richie and Eddie and Stan get a fucking happy ending? They all dedicated their fucking lives to kill that stupid clown. The nightmares, the visions, the fear and anxiety and panic they went through. Only for _some_ of them to get to be free. Pennywise was an evil alien clown, and could’ve killed anyone if it had the opportunity. But fucking Universe decided it was going to be Eddie. It decided to put Eddie there, and make him turn his back to Pennywise, giving It the opportunity to fucking impale Eddie like he was a piece of meat waiting to be served on a skewer. The Universe decided Eddie had to die right in front of Richie’s eyes.

_I could have saved him_

And he’d be angry at Bill. Bill, who lost his little brother. Bill, who just tried to help. And he knew it wasn’t fair, because how was Bill supposed to know? He couldn’t. They all came out alive when they fought It at 13. So why would they die when they were older?   
Turns out kids are much stronger than adults. 

And next came Bev. Sweet and brave Bev. Bev, who had those visions when they were kids. Bev, who could’ve _warned_ them about what she saw, who could’ve _told_ them what to avoid. And Eddie would be alive. But, really, would he? There isn’t a way of knowing for sure. If not impaled, he could’ve died from something else. Besides, there was no way of Beverly knowing what was real and what wasn’t. She didn’t really specify if her visions were before the fight or during the fight. If things had gone differently, maybe another one of them would’ve died. Maybe Richie himself would have died. 

_But that’s exactly what I want, isn’t it?_

And then he’d be angry at everyone, because he’d remember they’re just there, living their lives, as if Eddie and Stan weren’t dead. And they made him leave Eddie there. But then he thought again about how he was already gone. There was nothing left to do. 

_They made me leave him_

But it still pisses Richie off how Eddie didn’t even get to have a real funeral. A real fucking farewell. He was reduced to a missing poster, to be forgotten like all the other kids Pennywise killed, as if he wasn’t one of the people to kill the clown itself. 

_I could have saved him_

And then he would be sad again. And angry. And sad. And angry. And sad. And angry and sad and angry and sad and angry and sad and angry and sad and angry and sad and angryandsadandangryandsadandangryandsadandangryandsad

_It was my fault_

And he would be tired. Tired of feeling this way, tired of thinking about it, tired of living. And he would drink, and cry, and drink, and cry. And at some point his head would hurt, and he didn’t know if it was from crying or from drinking, or maybe it was both. 

_I should be dead instead of him_

And it’s not like he didn’t think about it. Every time he stared at a building, or at his accumulated antidepressants because he stopped taking them at some point, or at anything sharp, or at the fast cars on the street, or at the guns on movies or the ones he saw on walmart and local stores. He only thought about it, though. And it didn’t scare him. He was just so

_Tired Tired Tired Tired Tired_

numb that it felt almost like a dream. Like he had died with Eddie in that sewer, left alone and cold and

_Dead_

he just wanted to sleep forever. Or for everything to be fine, really, but he knew it was impossible because

_Dead_

you can’t bring people back. And, coming to think of it, no one would really miss him. Sure, his fans might get upset, but the person they adored never really existed anyway. And the Losers could get over it. Just like they did with Stan and Eddie.

_Dead_

His parents never loved him, and they hadn’t called for the past three years, even when he had been reported missing briefly after going to Derry. So, really. It wouldn’t make much of a difference. 

Even now, lying on his couch, with a whisky bottle in his hands, haven’t taken a bath in more than 3 days, all he could think about was the fact he didn’t want to be alive. Not without Eddie there. Because as much as he loved Stan, he never really met Stan as an adult. But he’d seen Eddie. He’d seen Eddie was still the same cute, short, brave and furious hypochondriac. 

  
_They made me leave him_

  
_I could have saved him_

  
_I never told him_

  
_He deserved so much better_

  
_It should have been me_

  
_It was my fault_

  
  


Richie eventually fell asleep.


End file.
